The butler was obviously in on the secret. Whoever Damon went to see on Sundays—and she could only guess it was a woman—was important enough to rank a private ringtone, and secrecy.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Chapter Seven
Damon sat as his desk, poring over account numbers.
Johanna stole a glance at him before returning her attention to grading papers. The past two months had passed in a blur.
In the mornings, her driver dropped her off at school, and when she finished her day at work, the driver would take her home. Then, in the evening, she’d settle in his office to work on grading papers and setting up her lesson plans while he worked on his own business affairs.
She yawned and looked at her watch. “It’s almost eight o’clock. Want to break for some dinner?”
Damon blinked, focusing on her. “Give me five more minutes. I’m almost finished with this column.”
She smiled, shaking her head as he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. “For someone who hated doing anything business related, you sure seem to be hooked on ‘one more minute’ now. You sound like an addict.”
He chuckled, but didn’t glance up. “Hey, just doing my job.”
She sighed and placed a star and a sticker on the paper in front of her. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t say another word. His new interest in his company thrilled her. Like hell she’d interrupt for something like food.
“Ah ha,” he called out. “There it is.”
She looked up. “There what is?”
“The shipments from last month were all off. I couldn’t figure out why we were missing not only goods, but money.
Someone entered the delivery as a shipment instead of received goods.” He smiled at her. “Everything adds up perfectly now.”
“Good,” she said, returning his smile. “I’m glad you figured it out.”
“I never thought I’d enjoy maths so much, but damn that feels good.” He intertwined his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his desk chair. “I’ve discovered I’m actually pretty good at maths. Who knew?”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she murmured, setting down the stickers. “You’ve got a good head on you. You just weren’t using it.”
“Gee, thanks. You’re too kind.”
Grinning, she stood. “Does that mean we get to eat now?
I’m starving.”
He chuckled and rose as well. “I noticed. I thought someone let a small dog in the house.”
“Hey, now. I can’t help it if I need food.” She punched his shoulder. “It’s your fault for having such an amazing cook.”
“She loves to show off for you, too,” he said. When they entered the dining room, he gestured at the table. “Check out the display tonight.”
Red and pink candles lined the center of the table, bathing the room in their soft glow. At their entry, a servant left and Damon led her to her customary spot. He seated himself and smiled at her. She sipped her wine.
“You have glitter on your nose.” He swiped it away. His touch, though innocent enough, made her stomach clench.
“There. All gone.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her lap.
Damn him for being so cute. “I wonder what we’re having tonight.”
He sank back into his chair. “I’ve heard a rumor it’s roast.”
“Mm.” She rubbed her growling stomach. “Excellent.”
“Says the alleged vegetarian…”
She chuckled. “I know. I’m mean.”
His cell rang and he glanced at the caller ID. “Hello?”
She tensed. She knew that ringtone. She’d heard it at the planetarium. She’d heard it every Saturday since. It was assigned to one person and one person only—the woman he visited every Sunday. He laughed, and jealousy gnawed at her. She had no idea who the mystery woman was—but she could certainly venture a guess.
“I’ll come see you on Sunday. Remember?” He caught sight of Johanna watching him and flushed. Pulling the phone away from his mouth, he said, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and forced a smile.
The servant carried their food in, bringing with him the scent of beef and potatoes, but she was no longer hungry. She could think only of Damon, and the woman who made him so happy.
He returned, sniffing. “Mm. That smells delicious. Sorry I had to excuse myself.”
“No worries.” She took a sip of wine and tilted her head.
“Who was it?”
“Oh, just a friend. We have a meeting on Sunday.” He turned red and picked up his fork. She watched him eat, but made no move to do the same.
She couldn’t stand it any longer. “A meeting? Again?”
He put the fork down and crossed his arms. “Yes. Every Sunday. Remember when I told you I have a meeting scheduled every week?”
She swallowed heavily. “Yeah. Sorry. Must’ve slipped my mind.”
Though he resumed eating, his eyes remained on her.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
She picked up her fork and stabbed a potato. Though cooked to perfection, it tasted flat and dull. She pushed back from the table and rose. “I’m not hungry anymore. I think I’m going to go to bed.”
He raised a brow and stood. “At eight-thirty on a Friday night?”
Her ears must be on fire, judging from the burning sensation. “Uh, yeah. Good night.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she snapped.
She fled the room and didn’t stop until she was safely ensconced behind her bedroom door. He had a meeting every Sunday afternoon, did he? Oh, it was a meeting all right. But not the type he implied.
If she were his wife in every way, she would’ve nagged him until he confessed the truth behind his trips. But, as his business partner…she let it drop. As much as it killed her.
Though she told herself it was only natural for him to seek out his pleasure elsewhere, since she herself gave him none, she couldn’t help but feel heartbroken. Which only served to anger her more. Hello, she’d told him she would not—could not—give him sex. What the hell did she expect the man to do…become a eunuch?
He was far too gorgeous to suffer such a fate.
…
The next morning, she woke with his mysterious Sunday meetings still on her mind. In fact, the bitch had haunted her dreams. She rolled out of bed, brushed her teeth, and descended the stairs.